


All's Fair

by Aris_Silverfin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: American fair, Belly Kink, Feeding, Food, M/M, Multi, Weight Gain, belly stuffing, day out and about, feederism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:10:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2260626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aris_Silverfin/pseuds/Aris_Silverfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an American style fair in town for a week and John, Sherlock, Mycroft, and Greg take full advantage of it. They end up with quite full stomachs and too tight trousers. This was inspired by a conversation with FatlocknDomJohn and I decided to write him a little quickie fic as a result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All's Fair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FatlocknDomJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FatlocknDomJohn/gifts).



This was not exactly what Mycroft Holmes had imagined as his great summer getaway. There was a revolting number of people here, and a heady smell of deep fried everything, children screaming. Not his cup of tea. Not even close.

Then there was something decidedly greasy thrust cheerfully into his hand.

"C'mon, My, don't be a spoilsport. You've got to try these! Best tenderloins in the nation according to the shopkeeper!" said one Greg Lestrade as he bit into his own slab of deep fried meat.

"They would all have us believe that, Gregory," Mycroft replied, but he figured to hell with it and took a generous bite of whatever it was he'd been given. He needed something to distract him from the dull masses milling around them. He found keeping his mouth full and his brain releasing endorphins from fatty foods was just what he needed to endure this mess. And then there was caramel apples covered in nuts and drizzled in chocolate, popcorn slathered in enough salt and butter to make his stomach twinge, jumbo turkey legs dripping with their own juices (Though Greg seemed to favor the truly enormous burgers which were piled high with bacon and cheese.

"It's a wonder they don't deep fry those and put them on a stick," Mycroft mused mildly as his partner returned, his belly clearly full from all the treats of the day, but the man's appetite still strong and able to be tempted. Greg sat with a huff, tugged at his waist band and then bit into the monstrosity before him.

"I know," he said wistfully between bites of succulent meat and cheese, "Such a shame." Mycroft smiled and stood to fetch him a blooming onion as well.

xxx

"Really, John, this was your idea of fun?" Sherlock asked sniffily, even as his eyes seemed to linger on every child that passed with a tuft of blue or pink cotton candy.

"Yeah actually," John said, taking his boyfriend's hand and giving it a squeeze, "I haven't been to one of these in ages. First stop I think is the funnel cake stand there. Then how about I win you a bear at the shooting range, yeah?"

Sherlock did his best to puff himself up and roll his eyes, but John caught a tiny glimmer of excitement in Sherlock's eyes.

"If you... must," he said flatly. John merely chuckled.

"Do you want one for yourself? Or should we split it?" John asked as he stepped up to order. He got two despite Sherlock's sputtering and passed one of the cakes over, grease stains dying the paper plate gray in spot under perfect golden brown tendrils and piles of powdered sugar.

It turned out Sherlock really liked funnel cakes. How he could have missed this was beyond him. He asked John shyly for the rest of his once his soldier had finished all he wanted.

Sherlock's tastes weren't limited to funnel cakes however, John bought him a snowcone that turned his mouth an adorable shade of blue, then won him a stuffed polar bear. Sherlock flatly refused to carry it at first, holding it furiously in his arms before perching his chin on top of the bear's soft head and sulking. John chuckled and decided to coax his lover's brighter mood back out with a generous bag of cotton candy. Sherlock was almost gleeful as he tore into it, so much so that he forgot to be cross about the bear and let it remain warmly in his lap as he sucked down wads and wads of spun sugar.

Sherlock thought cotton candy might well have been his most favorite thing in the world. But then he tasted fried candy bars, fried oreos, and somethign called a deep fried twinkie and he found himself impossibly torn. He demanded more of each in order to reach a proper conclusion but all he wound up with was a swollen and achy tummy.

xxx

The fair was in town for a week. Mycroft and Greg went every day, sampling a different row of food stalls every time and stumbling home with bellies full of fried goods and ice cream at the end of the evening. Sherlock and John found themselves returning to the fair every day of the seven as well, trying their best to come to a conclusion about Sherlock's preferred foodstuff. However, it wasn't until the final day, that the two couples met.

Mycroft had just gone to find Greg a foot long corn dog to go with his spiral potato fries. When he returned, a certain ex-army doctor was sat across from his Detective Inspector and chatting to him warmly. Mycroft hissed in annoyance, falling back slightly. If John was here, Sherlock was sure to follow, and his dear brother would likely point out certain aspects of Gregory's altered physique that he had been hoping to gloss over. At least until the man's trouser button burst. But the doctor was looking a little different as well, a line around his jaw, a slight roundness near his middle... Nothing like dear Gregory, though. No, nothing nearly as magnificent.

The DI's arse was taking up quite a lot of the bench he sat on, squashy love handles blooming from a too-tight waist band and sweeping gracefully around to build a hanging gut at the man's front. Greg shifted back, laughing merrily and everything jiggled so enticingly... he was at the man's side before he could stop himself.

"Here you are," Mycroft practically purred, handing over the gigantic corndog and watching lovingly as Greg took a large and eager bite. "Hello, Dr. Watson."

"Hi, enjoying the fair?" John asked, smiling politely, "Sherlock's just gone to fetch a funnel cake. Said he's worked out the ideal ratio of toppings." He chuckled and Greg did as well. Mycroft smiled tightly and straightened himself. His own belly was miniscule in comparison to dear Gregory's but Sherlock did like to poke-

Oh dear.

"Hello, brother," Mycroft called, a smirk curling his lip as Sherlock came into view, "You're looking well..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat, the bench creaking beneath him as he sat down close to John, his arse looking ready to tear the trousers in two.

"John, why did you sit near /him/?" he demanded sulkily, tearing off some of the funnel cake that was laden with ice cream, chocolate sauce and strawberries.

"Oh come off it, just thought we'd say hello," John said, unable to stop a hungry gaze from flicking down to Sherlock's middle. The detective had given up his bespoke dress shirts on Thursday. John had leant him a larger, less tailored shirt, but there was no denying the round pale skin that peeked out between the buttons.

The detective snorted again and merely focused on his food. Mycroft grinned and leaned into Greg, drawing an arm around the DI's shoulders. He began nicking a few of his fries, ensuring they were slathered with bacon and cheese. It seemed he could afford to let go of his diet a bit more in present company.


End file.
